Sentimental value

Those of you with relatives of an age and class to shop at Woolworths in the late 40s/early 50s may be familiar with the little amber-stemmed, gold-leaf printed sherry glasses to be seen in many a household cupboard. My father bought some as a birthday present for his mother when he was of an age I can't remember, but below 10, and paid his father back for them with most of his pocket money for months. My grandmother did indeed drink sherry out of them. Dad has the sole survivor. And as of this lunchtime, when I saw a set of five for £7.50 as I was passing the local hospice charity shop, I have some myself! I already have sherry glasses, so I think I might just have to drink schnapps out of these; they would be the perfect size. Once I have christened them with some sherry.

This is in perfect time to surprise my father, arrives tomorrow for a weekend visit. In the grand tradition of such visits I have spent this evening tidying up (i.e. shoved things in drawers) and ensuring that there are no fanfic notes lying around the place. Dad is well aware I write fanfic, but I can live without him actually reading it outside controlled conditions.